The Raging Storm
by HelloJudy
Summary: Buffy takes out her rage on Spike during a thunder storm..."As rain furiously beat down on their bodies, she was a crazed beast driven by the basic hunger to lust in surroundings that seemed to have lost all sanity..He loved either way."


Buffy/Spike fanfiction [7/23/03] set mid-season 6 (Characters belong to Whedon and ME. Thanks again to ~Xionin~ for the assistance)  
  
THE RAGING STORM  
  
Tree branches flailed in the stirring wind, rustling its leaves in a perpetual, snake-like hiss while a low electric energy buzzed through the air, prickling her skin and shooting her baby hairs up stiffly at attention. Thick clouds, an eerie violet black, had chased away the night light, completely ridding any hope of the moon and stars, and brewed of potential  
  
danger.  
  
The sky then grumbled. A storm had approached.  
  
Buffy was blinded by her own anger to worry about the erratic mood of Mother Nature. As she crossed the cemetery, it was anger fueling her petite legs to quickly eat up the distance ahead of her and get as far from Spike as she possibly could. "Who the hell does he think he is?" Speaking aloud the exasperation of her thoughts, she muttered continuous obscenities and curses under her breath as red edged her vision and lost leaves blew passed her, some caught in her hair.  
  
Stalking faster, she grew more frustrated remembering how he interfered with tonight's patrol, nearly getting her killed by swooping in like a wanna-be superman in an attempt to save her from two vampires. In another time, in a different place, maybe the chivalrous initiative would've been sweet. But the pride of the Slayer cold and firm as stone, she didn't need his help, didn't need him constantly at her side. She didn't goddamn need him period. Didn't he know how pathetic he was, acting as though he were her boyfriend? Thinking that their daily romps in the sack were something more when really that's all it was; all he was to her?  
  
A demon as well as a good fuck.  
  
He appeared from beyond the swaying shadows, clad in his standard black and leather she never would admit to him was villainously sexy, and stood in her path with a calm that infuriated her. Prepared for a fight, she huffed out a frustrated breath and clenched her fists. "Spike, you obviously didn't hear me the first time when I said get out of my face."  
  
Her hair slanted across her vision and his duster flapped behind him. The wind was an evolving force between them and surrounding them; howling with the hissing trees as if possessed. His voice rose over it, both of them unrecognizing nature's madness for they were blinded by their own dark attraction. "Tsk Tsk. Not very polite of you...Slayer. Don't I even get so much as a thank you for lending a helping hand?"  
  
"I didn't need help." Thunder grumbled irritably while Buffy's voice was sharp as a knife ready for slicing. "And if I did, I would never come to you. Now move!" He blocked her when she tried to walk around him, her impatience rampant. "Spike, I swear to God, if you don't get out of my way, I'll-"  
  
"You'll what?" Looking down at her so rigidly contained she'd burst, he jerked his chin. "Scare me to death with your meaningless threats? Save your breath. You're all talk Slayer, no action."  
  
"Action?" He saw her green eyes focus darkly with temper and emotion; anger being the only thing she'd been able to feel and by provoking that, maybe he could spring to life the rest of her. "You want action?"  
  
"Sure," he dared. "If you-"  
  
She shut him up with a backhand to that arrogantly dimpled chin. Before he could recover and check for bloodshed, she struck him with another unforgiving blow to the jaw.  
  
She swung at him again, but he ducked and retaliated by slamming his forehead to hers. As she reeled back, her head searing from the pain, thunder shook the earth and then rain fell abruptly as though someone flipped a switch.  
  
Preoccupied with their own motives, neither bothered to look up and run for cover.  
  
"C'mon, I've seen better from you Slayer. Unless, that is, you've lost your touch. That why those vamps nearly took a poke at you?"  
  
While she was completely drenched in the pouring rain, her limp hair clinging in golden curls to her damp skin and her clothes sagging enough to see the supple form of her body, she fumed with a rage that had her chest heaving and eyes narrowing like a bull that had seen red from her immense hatred of him.  
  
She was dangerous and she was wet.  
  
God, he wanted her.  
  
His gaze traveled down her as thunder roared and reverberated, adding to the sensations of arousal that heated and hardened him to unbearable desire.  
  
"You bastard." She said through gritted teeth and must have sensed his excitement because when she lunged at him with all her frustration and all her hate, she crushed her mouth to his and feasted.  
  
Like hungry beasts, they ravaged each other's mouths, forcing probing tongues that demanded the intoxicating flavors of rain and want.  
  
And how he wanted her, needed her towards the brink of insanity. As thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, his mind went blank and could only think of now, of her pressed against his solid chest willing to give her body but not what he wants the most.  
  
Here in the pelting rain, he would take what he could get.  
  
She felt him throbbing like nervous heartbeats through the heavy and soaked barriers of their clothing, and because her craving to feel was so demanding, she hooked a leg around him to grind her pelvis against his.  
  
Her greed was evolving.  
  
The complete surrender to lust gave her ultimate power over him that had her blood coursing like a raging flood beneath her burning, wet skin. Drunk on this, she broke the kiss with a feral grunt and pushed him to the soggy earth. With rough moves in lightning quick speed, she managed to drag one leg free of her jeans and pounced.  
  
Straddling him in the chaotic wet, she rocked, dry fucking his bulge like a wild animal, and grabbed the lapels of his duster, forcing him up into another ruthless kiss; her drenched tresses tangled between ravenous mouths. With pure strength not of the Slayer but of a lover possessed, she then pushed him down again into the muddy ground and launched herself forward.  
  
Gripping his peroxide blond hair saturated with earth, she yanked his head back baring tongue and teeth. He looked up between her magnificent thighs as she towered over him, a wrathful idol bent on destruction, and caught the murderous gleam in her eyes when lightning pulsed over her before smothering herself unmercilessly against him.  
  
She moaned long and luxuriously, her head rolling back to welcome the shower to her face, once that sparkling life burst in her belly, shimmering like the white fireworks behind her eyes.  
  
The sizzling glitter then dispersed through out her body and she suddenly realized the tremendous weight of her remaining clothes. So as his tongue did clever things to her, she frustratingly pulled off her jacket and tore her blouse open, buttons flying, granting her skin freedom that hummed desperate for it. She squeezed her own breasts, feral sounds emanating from her throat from the mixed textures of water, wind and her own hands, before recklessly ripping her bra.  
  
That's her third one this week.  
  
She then plunged her small hands into his soaking hair, fingers digging to his scalp for a firm grip to ram his mouth harder between her thighs in turbulent motions.  
  
He let her move him and, as her slave, he would follow for all eternity.  
  
His own clothes were a burden, restraining his hard-on and his skin that too demanded liberation. But he wouldn't dare do anything to interrupt her climb. At least, not yet.  
  
With his hands squeezing her beautiful rump, he moved her faster against him, lapping her up and sucking her swollen slickness to drive her to that glimmering edge.  
  
Potent, mingling flavors of female and rain and earth surged through him like a forbidden elixir, swimming in his system that was becoming more inebriated of her at every lick.  
  
The storm raged on as Buffy fed on her empty passion like a vampire would feed on an innocent mortal, draining the life away so she could regain as much vitality possible that was lost during her resurrection.  
  
She whimpered and moaned loud then even louder, moving her hot sex in gushing, vehement waves against his skillful now flitting tongue that had ignited crackling flames in her belly to spread furiously like wildfire, higher and higher towards that glorious peak of release.  
  
Just when she was about to jump off the edge, Spike pushed her off him in one rough move.  
  
"You son of a bitch!" She growled it through her teeth when her bare ass plopped into the mushy ground, mud and blades of grass sticking to her. "You son of a bitch!" She didn't hesitate to kick his face where he grinned sinfully and jumped back on to straddle him. Punishingly quick, she smacked him across the face and then ripped his shirt vertically down the center of his torso.  
  
She bites.  
  
His eyes fly open and he screams.  
  
He arches then writhes beneath her, torturous pleasure searing through him as her blunt teeth were unrelenting of his nipple to brand her mark on the pale perfection of his skin.  
  
She released with a snarl and plundered him.  
  
She rode wild and fast, never allowing his mind the chance to figure when she fumbled with his jeans, freeing his cock to then immediately be swallowed in the devouring between.  
  
His hands gripped her waist as she bounced, squishing the ground underneath. He watched her face, the intense creasing of her brows and her mouth wide open huffing out breathy moans nearly grunting.  
  
It was only a few nights ago they were laying languid in his crypt where candle light tossed gold and shadows over her naked curves. There, he took the time to touch, journey. To worship.  
  
Now as rain furiously beat down on their bodies, she was a crazed beast driven by the basic hunger to lust in surroundings that seemed to have lost all sanity.  
  
He loved either way.  
  
She continued to move even as she pulled him up by the lapels of his duster he still wore, though his shirt was in shreds, and kissed him hard and fierce while struggling to drag the leather from his arms. Once freed, he threw his arms around her, pressing her close, one hand clamping the back of her neck, the other buried in her wet hair as he thrust fast with as much force this position would yield.  
  
For a moment she let herself recline and be pounded, but just before she was about to wrap her legs around his waist, she refused the shift of control and shoved him back down to the mush.  
  
She pumped him furiously, galloping on the riotous rhythm of desire so greedy it clawed from inside her.  
  
His body was gorgeous, she thought dimly. How his sculpted chest glistened in the wet, grass blades clinging to rippling lank muscle. Impulsively, she dug her nails into him, impressing crescents in his skin before her fingers raked over the chiseled firmness of his torso.  
  
They were marks of possession.  
  
His own hands went to her breasts, cupping while they bounced against his palms. He squeezed and, oh God, they were so soft and so slick. But her nipples were long and hard as pebbles, and he pinched them between his fingers. To his satisfaction, he made it possible for her to grow even more rabid from the torment.  
  
She put her hands over his, both now cupping and squeezing her supple globes. She rode hard; her head falling back, eyes shut and mouth agape. The climax was rising inside her just as he felt his own coming soon arriving in him.  
  
He was grunting, she was screaming. The earth beneath them trembled from thunder. The rain poured angrily as though it was God's will to drown the wicked. Buffy didn't think she'd be swept away then sink into the punishing flood. As she rode, the torrent falling on her, what she felt was the each individual drop of rain simultaneously hitting then absorbing into her flesh.  
  
She felt invincible.  
  
And just when the last staggering bolt of lightning ripped and illuminated the sky, thunder crashing, an orgasm slashed through them like a sword made of pure gold.  
  
The air calmed and the rain ceased when they shuddered at the glittering explosion; he coming inside her with jerky thrusts while she quivered and shook around him.  
  
Breathing deeply, her eyes remained closed when she moaned lazily and slunk bonelessly on to his slick chest; the drenched ropes of her hair curling like snakes to his pale skin.  
  
She rubbed the sides of his waist while she tried to regain her breath and he massaged the back of her neck as his own chest uselessly rose and fell.  
  
It came easily for them to touch lovingly once the heat of passion had receded and they lay in that dreamy after sex, even if the ground was mushy beneath them.  
  
Under all her hate, she would find love.  
  
But she shoved herself up, firmly denying that truth as she fought the thick languor in her limbs. Her hair dripped behind her and beads of water slid down her damp skin.  
  
With distant eyes, she gathered her heavily soaked clothing. When she found her jacket, she draped it over her as best as she could, and turned her back on him; her bare feet squashing the soggy grass as she stepped away.  
  
"Buffy." His voice stopped her, for it was so raw and beautiful.  
  
She waited a beat.  
  
"Get inside Spike, before it starts to rain again." She said coolly over her shoulder and left him naked and alone on the ground.  
  
Instead of watching her walk further away from him into the night, he looked up at the sky and saw the dark clouds were parting, revealing the promise of stars his heart had ached for.  
  
fin 


End file.
